Laying Down the Law
by Warden's Vigil
Summary: Just another day in the life of Sergeant Kylon.  Good thing he can get help from random sources for his daily tasks, because his men sure aren't of any use.
1. Chapter 1

**-==# Sergeant Kylon #==-**

Another bloody massacre, and this one has been the most gruesome yet.

Kylon had just arrived back into the market district's main square after visiting the latest scene of a silent murder rampage that had been kept as much under wraps as the city patrol could make of it. No doubt that something was leaking through the cracks, because even the veteran sergeant could see it in the eyes of the people he saw every day. A certain underlying fear that threatened to consume them, after rebuilding so much of their lives from the Blight, now some unknown threat was picking them off in the shadows, and there wasn't a damned thing they could do about it.

These killings started to gather Kylon's attention less than a year ago, not long after King Alistair's coronation. They were only confined to singular incidents over periods as long as a few weeks apart, often women and often non-humans, dumped in alleyways or ditches, and all of them showing signs of being heavily sedated and tortured mercilessly before their throats were slashed. There was no evidence of rape or sexual assault, but that was where things became even more surreal. Sometimes, there were things... _carved_into the victims' bodies. Strange sentances written almost so haphazardly that they were indecipherable. But soon enough, the sergeant could pick out a pattern in these carved messages.

They were script from the Chant of Light.

No sooner had Kylon discovered this when he headed straight for the Chantry in his district and began to question the sisters, the templars, the researchers, anyone he could find. He asked about suspicious activity from someone they worked with or a patron who came in regularly, anything he could use. No one could help him at all. The sisters and templars have seen hundreds of people who flocked through the doors daily, they couldn't keep track of who looked "suspicious", not with all their other duties.

Kylon wasn't getting any answers, and the bodies were continuing to pile up in front of him. This last one had been the worst yet, an elven man of about eighteen summers branded repeatedly before being slashed and hung on a rafter beam by his own entrails near an abandoned wharf by the docks. His boys, the spineless bastards that they were, swore that they would have nightmares for weeks after seeing that, and Kylon silently made one of his rare agreements with them. Maker knew he barely got any sleep these nights, ever since the killings were brought to his attention.

Sergeant Kylon always felt twenty years older than he actually was, but this new complication doubled that estimate. He knew the job was taking its toll on him physically. His face was stretched and unshaven, eyes somewhat glazed and dark-rimmed from lack of sleep, premature crow's feet and wrinkles around his mouth, strands of gray in his mud-brown hair. And his sorry excuse for guardsmen were not helping his stress in the slightest. Even now, they were clustered together, taking out decks of dimaondback or cracking jokes when they should be spreading out on their daily patrol. Maker's Breath, Kylon was going to maim every single one of their hides...

Before he could manage that, however, Edwina from the Tavern came running up to him in a hurry.

"Kylon!" she shouted over the din of the market, "Kylon, please, you _have_to help me!"

Making sure that his frustrated sigh never left his lips, Kylon turned his eyes on the older woman and asked patiently, "What's the matter, Ed? The Oars come back in, have they?"

She gave a scowl and replied, "Stubborn freeloaders not budgin' an inch! They sit and guffaw, smackin' my waitresses 'round and drivin' my customers out! I want ya to get your boys t'gether and thrash those thugs right out the front door, have 'em run cryin' back ta their ships!"

Kylon nodded. Those mercenaries would be the death of him, he swore. No matter how many times they drove them out, somehow they found their way back into the Tavern to cause more trouble. No matter. After giving his assurances that he would deal with the problem, Kylon headed over to address his guards, saying in a loud, commanding voice, "Right, up off your arses, you sorry lot, we got a job. The Oars are back in town-"

One of them shouted out, "Wha, back already? Shouldn't found their way here til least midsummer!"

There was an outbreak of laughter from the others until Kylon shut them up with a glare, and continued in a firmer tone, "-so, like it or not, we need to get them back out again."

Another voice piped up, "Ah, wha's the use, sir? They'll just find their way back like they always do! Gots noses like bloodhounds, they do!"

Yet another voice quipped, "Yeah, 'n the rest of their faces don't look so good, either."

More laughter. Kylon simply set his hand over his eyes in a tired fashion. What he wouldn't give to have some decent help on his side at the moment...

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

Occasionally, and more and more often as of late, there were days like this one when Kaytaryn Desmarais would find herself wishing for the quiet and solitude of her previous life on the road. It wasn't that she minded assisting those who needed help (that was the whole purpose of her "job," wasn't it?), nor was it that she'd had to lose a night's worth of sleep. That had happened on many an occasion. But when she began losing several night's sleep in a row because the information given to her was inaccurate or incomplete ….

Growling softly to herself, Kayt crossed through the Market District on her way home via the Alienage. The job had finally been completed in the wee hours of the morning, in no small part because she simply refused to give up. _Le Renard Blanc does not quit! _And, now that the … incident was over, surely she could get away with sleeping the rest of the day away, right? Maybe two days? At this point, Kayt was even willing to forgo a day's worth of meals if it meant uninterrupted sleep.

As she began turning towards the alleyway in the direction of the rooms that she rented from Sybilla, Kayt began to hear the frustrated, pleading rantings of Sybilla's sister, Edwina, of The Gnawed Noble Tavern. "Kylon!" Her voice rang out loud and shrill above the rest of the marketplace. "Kylon, please, you have to help me!"

Kayt paused a moment and turned to watch. She knew Edwina fairly well, aside from their mutual connection to Sybilla. Kayt often would frequent _The Gnawed Noble_ for an evening meal or a drink, plus one of her best friends rented rooms there. At the moment, however, Edwina was acting far from her usual dour self, which concerned Kayt. _These men must REALLY be causing problems …._

Kayt watched the diminutive woman approach the sergeant-at-arms. She had met him before once or twice, though only in passing and usually only with a nod of the head as acknowledgement, and she pointedly avoided him any time that she was … _working._"What's the matter, Ed?" he asked, his demeanor one of patient exhaustion. "The Oars come back in, have they?"

_The Oars? _she wondered. Then she recalled an incident several months past. _Ah, The Crimson Oars. _Her face turning to a severe scowl, she recalled the last time the louts had been forcefully ejected from the establishment. It had been right as she was arriving, however, so she had not witnessed the entire altercation, but she had seen the sergeant "encouraging" their leader to depart. Kayt had found no small amusement as a result of that particular incident. Particularly once she had entered the tavern and heard more from Edwina and the rest of the staff.

At the moment, however, Kayt saw that Edwina was scowling up a storm as she roared, "Stubborn freeloaders not budgin' an inch! They sit and guffaw, smackin' my waitresses 'round and drivin' my customers out! I want ya to get your boys t'gether and thrash those thugs right out the front door, have 'em run cryin' back ta their ships!"

From the little she knew of the sergeant, Kayt suspected that if he did not follow Edwina back to the tavern at this moment, he would be following shortly, and she decided that this time she would prefer to see the entire show from the beginning. Changing her direction, Kayt headed towards the _Noble_and entered quietly, her eyes scanning the dimly lit interior.

Stepping forward into the common room, Kayt approached the bar, ordered herself a drink, and moved to take a seat nearby. She removed her bow and set it aside, checked to make certain her dagger was sheathed at her waist, and then sat back. Though she did not see the men causing the disturbance, she could hear them well enough … and the startled cry of alarm coming from one of the serving girls. Kayt had no plans on getting directly involved with anything, particularly given her current state of exhaustion, but she knew that should anything start moving in a direction that suggested even the slightest bit of danger to any of the staff or patrons, she would offer her assistance.

A crash, a cry and many male toned drunken chuckles later, Kayt lifted her gaze towards the door to the establishment. _He certainly is taking his own sweet time,_she thought a bit tartly as she found herself wondering where Kylon and/or any of his men could be. Another cry, a deep voice making thickly-voiced suggestions, and Kayt could take it no longer. Approval or no, she would not, could not, let this continue any longer.

Rising to her feet, though concertedly reining in her anger, Kayt reached for her bow and shouldered it and loosened the dagger at her waist in preparation. _At least I'm still in my armor._Taking a deep breath, she stepped around the table and walked into the side room, actively searching for the source of the commotion.

Her attention was caught immediately by activity to her right. _There … five … No, six of them_. Kayt sighed. What she wouldn't give to have Leliana or Diana or both at her back right now. She was about to step towards the fray when she felt a strong hand at her shoulder, squeezing it. Glancing up, she found the sergeant had arrived. "A bit late for the party?" she muttered, trying to pull from his grasp. Instead, she felt him nudge her aside as he moved into the room. _Damn, she groaned inwardly. I'm going to have to apologize for that one …._

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Lairentes #==-<strong>

Another fist slammed into his side, causing Lairentes to fall back towards the table. He pressed his hand against it and stopped himself, grunting in pain as he did so. The punch was sending waves of pain that cascaded through his body, and he wanted dearly to just collapse and wait out the blow. But the drunk man that had struck him was not going to let him regain his strength, and so the elf had to push himself up in to a standing position. He took a quick breath and ignored his bruised ribs as he straightened his back.

The Crimson Oar grinned and showed off his yellow teeth, and the man rammed his fist into his other hand. "You took that well, elf." The Dalish nodded slowly as the Oar started to laugh, and his friends returned the call, letting out a few short, brutish chuckles. "Course..." The Oar cracked his knuckles, eyeing Lairentes with a violent glint in his eyes. "I can throw a fist much harder than that."

"I don't doubt that, sire." Lairentes winced as he took a step back, the movement sending up a sharp stab of irritation up his side. He looked upon the grinning thug, and bit down a rising wave of anger in his stomach. Fighting now would only result in the Oars tearing him apart, limb by limb. He had to simply bow his head and wait for a chance to escape, or a chance to reach his daggers that had been piled upon the table. He swallowed his will to fight and leaned against the wall. "Can I take a rest though? I'll be better prepared to recieve your punches then."

The thug chuckled, and smiled at his friends, who were seated around the wooden table with their mugs at their lips. They grinned back, glancing at the Dalish with a satisfied smirk. "Take a break." The man nodded, and looked downwards. Lairentes took a breath of relief, and stepped away from the wall in order to make his way to a chair. The man suddenly turned about suddenly and slammed his meaty fist into the cheek of the elf, his laugh echoing in the Dalish's ears as he fell upon the floor.

Lairentes moaned involuntarily, casting his eyes about the room in order to better survey the situation. The door was closed shut, blocked by the five Crimson Oars. Two of them were over by the fire, tossing a slender serving girl between them and grinning lecherously at her. The poor girl had a wide face and big eyes, her features twisted into a fearful cringe. That left three Oars between him and the door, weapons at the ready in case he tried anything. There was no escape, yet.

About an hour ago, he had simply strolled into the Gnawed Noble for a drink, tired from wandering the Market District for the entirety of the morning. The elf had been sitting a table of his own, minding his own business when the leader of the Crimson Oars had strolled out into the common room, and had spotted him with a grin smeared over his face. "Look at that! An elf, a brave one for wandering into a human tavern." The leader had offered the Dalish a drink, and while Lairentes had qualms about staying in his company, it was a free drink.

As soon as he was finished, though, the leader had dragged him into the side room and introduced him to his gang as "Some good fun." The elf was thrown into the corner, his weapons liberated from him, and had been used for the amusement of the mercenaries for the next hour. When they weren't tossing around serving girls, they lashed out a kick at him and laughed as they did so.

The girl the two Oars in the corner were throwing around collapsed upon the floor, letting out a cry as the mercenaries gathered around. "Well, boys, looks like she wants to get right to it!" They chuckled, and one of them knelt down on the floor, grabbing her ankle and tugging at her dress. Lairentes pushed himself up, and stayed completely still as the gang encircled the serving girl. He glanced back at his weapons, and swallowed down some blood as he debated on his next action. He could grab his daggers and leave, but that would leave the girl to her fate... and he didn't want to feel guilty for the next few days over these louts.

The girl was thrown against the wall, and she cried out in terror. The Oars all let out a chuckle, and Lairentes took a step towards the table. If she kept distracting them, he would be able to grab his weapons and actually do something.

Then the door slammed open, and the elf jumped from the shock of the action, ramming his back against the wall as a woman stepped inside, clad in armor with two daggers in her hands. The Oars all turned towards the new woman, and Lairentes saw his chance. He jumped towards the table, and pulled forth his two blades, turning towards the mercenaries and held them in front of him in a defensive position. He wasn't sure if the woman was on his side or not, but the Oars were certainly not.

He watched as the town guards filed into the room, and he nodded at them. "The shrieking finally catch your attention?"


	2. Chapter 2

**-==# Sergeant Kylon #==-**

Finally managing to get his rambunctious men under control, Kylon picked out two, Sayveen and Reynolds, to accompany him to settle the disturbance. "The rest of you lot," he addressed the other guards, "patrol the district. And if any of you so much as _thinks_about skipping off to the Pearl or anywhere else, you'll have the honor of joining in on the night shift tonight. Understand?" There were a couple of discontent grumbles, but they bowed their heads, muttered their "yessirs" and shuffled off to their corners to start their patrol anew. Kylon watched them go, shaking his head in frustration. He was down to threatening them in order to do their jobs. If this wasn't a bad omen about things to come, Maker knew what was, he reasoned.

Flanked by the other two guards, Kylon walked steadily over to the entrance of the Tavern and opened the door. Huh, seemed like things were worse than he thought. The patrons were cowering in their seats, the ale practically spilling out of their quaking mugs onto the tables. But it seemed that not all of them were so cowed. One woman near the bar had her dagger drawn, and with a determined scowl, was just about to barge through the door where the loud ruckus was coming from. Before she just barged in and probably got run through by a blade lying in wait, however, the sergeant grabbed her shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, almost an order for her to stay put.

The woman turned around, and Kylon found that he recognized her from around the market. It was difficult to forget such a distinctive facial tattoo of a stylish fox, after all. She seemed capable, however, usually dressed in studded leather and armed with bow and dagger, the air of a woodsman around her. She muttered to him in a slightly tart voice, "A bit late for the party?" The sergeant simply raised an eyebrow and nudged her back against the bar, clearing the way for him to reach the back room. However, just as he was about to open it, he turned to her and raised a single hand, gesturing for her to follow him. Well, if she was so intent on helping, then she wasn't about to be stopped by him. Kylon's eyes next went to the guard on his left and asked, "Reynolds, if you'd be so kind?"

The guard in question cleared his throat and bellowed to the other patrons, "Anyone in 'ere who's not wantin' their faces caved in would be advised to leave..._ now_."

Some quick shuffling of furniture and chairs later, and the barroom was practically devoid of life, save for the sergeant, the two guards and the girl. Satisfied that there would be no other casualties, Kylon threw open the door. And it looked like he arrived in the nick of time, too. The Oars looked three sheets to the wind already, a dazed elf against the wall and a serving girl in between two of them, fright and terror etched on her features. Kylon simply walked in slowly, his armored boots thumping onto the plank floor, casting the rowdiness of the room into silence. The elf male sprang onto the table with a cache of weapons atop it, drawing two blades defensively over him, and nodded over at Kylon, asking in a derisive tone, "The shrieking finally get your attention?"

Kylon hoped that his skill with those toothpicks he had was on par with his sharp tongue, else their time together would be short, indeed.

Ignoring the elf, the leader of the mercenaries clumped forward, glaring right at the sergeant with semi-glazy eyes. "_Kylon_," he spat, almost slurred. The sergeant simply looked back at him, finally speaking up, "I'm only going to give you and your good-for-nothing crew one chance; leave now, or else we'll make you regret it." He knew it was a lost cause to try and reason ith these men, but he wasn't about to slaughter anyone without good cause. He was a man of the law, and would never make the first blow.

Luckily for him, the Oar leader wasn't as adverse to bloodshed, as he marched right up close enough for Kylon to smell the ale wafting from his breath. He spoke, "On'y way yer forcin' us out, sarge, is over my dead _arse_." He followed up by spitting directly onto his boots.

Not even looking down, Kylon replied, "As you like." His foot shot up and kicked the merc right into the chest heavily, sending him tumbling to the ground. In the same motion, Kylon drew his weapons, and giving them an experimental spin to test the space in the room, lashed out at the two nearest thugs before shouting at his own boys to get their shields up and close ranks. Sayveen and Reynolds complied, lowering their iron bulwarks in an improvised phalanx while creating some room with their swords, forcing the mercenaries back a couple of paces. Edwina had already grabbed the waitress and retreated to the back room during the standoff, so it was just armed men and women in the room now.

Kylon gave a glance over to the woman in leather armor and spoke, "Circle around them, cut off their movement! I'll grab their attention!" With that, he appeared in the space between his fellow guards' shields and began hacking furiously at any thug stupid enough to get into his range.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Raiziv Carvi #==-<strong>

Raiziv needed a drink, badly. His visit to the alienage while informative had stirred up memories he'd much rather have forgotten. So a few drinks of alcohol where needed to force the memories toward the back of his mind where they belonged. He supposed he could have returned to the Prancing Pony for his drink but the Gnawed Noble was closer so to the Gnawed Noble he went. He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly as he noticed a group of city guards entering the tavern. Under normal circumstances Raiziv would have simply turned around and gone to a different tavern or simply gone back to the Prancing Pony but he _really_needed that drink so into the Gnawed noble he went.

The first thing he noticed upon entering the tavern was the sounds that were coming from the other room. Raiziv tilted his head to the side, actually two different sets of sounds coming from the other room. One set: thumps, crashes, groans of pain, and cruel laughter the typical sounds that accompanied a bar fight, the other set: feminine cries of fear, lecherous laughter, and husky voices making inappropriate suggestions.

_so that's why the guards came here _he thought walking up to the bar.

Ordering a pint of strong ale, Raiziv took a seat nearest to the bar but farthest away from the other room. Whatever was going on in there he didn't want the guards to get the impression that he was a part of it. Glancing through the doorway he idly noted that not only had the guards become involved but so had a bow wielding armor clad woman. Well she wasn't wielding the bow but rather it was sheathed on her back leading Raiziv to believe that she had another weapon. The leader of the city guards pulled her to the side creating enough room for him to enter giving Raiziv enough room to see a bit of what was going on inside. A couple of humans stood on the other side of the doorway; behind them stood a dual-dagger wielding bruised and bloodied elf, obviously one of their sources of entertainment.

Raiziv glanced at the waitress, who was doing a very poor job of pretending to not be paying attention to what was going on, as she placed his drink on the table. His attention was brought back to the potentially violent situation when one of the guards bellowed "Anyone in 'ere who's not wantin' their faces caved in would be advised to leave..._now_"

_This could prove to be very entertaining _he thought taking a large sip of his ale

Raiziv was proven right when almost as soon as a waitress, the other source of entertainment for the armored men, was escorted out of the room; violence erupted within the room. Raiziv gulped down the rest of his ale and scowled down into his mug it would take quite a bit more before he'd even get buzzed off of this crap.

_Course there are other things one can do to forget_ he thought standing up _like beat the shit out of someone_

As Raiziv walked towards the doorway he reached back and unsheathed both of his weapons, a small smirk appearing on his face. Crossing the threshold he took a quick survey six heavily armed men, against three guards, an elven mercenary/theif, a dagger wielding woman, and young elf who despite having the shit beat out of him still had the desire to fight.

"tch only one for each of us…pity" Raiziv said falling into a defensive position as he filled an opening left by the guards.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

Kayt watched the sergeant quietly as he ordered his man, "Reynolds, if you'd be so kind?"

"Anyone in 'ere who's not wantin' their faces caved in would be advised to leave... now."

As exhausted as she was, Kayt could not resist a soft chuckle at the man's blunt warning to the patrons of the establishment. _Oh yes, this 'show' will be well worth it. _She paused a moment to watch as the crowd (or those who had remained until the warning) finally up and left … and quickly. All that remained were the city guards, herself and one other …. Kayt squinted in the patron's direction. _An elf … and a one who appears capable of defending himself. Good._She turned her attention back to Kylon as the sergeant forced the door and began moving inside the room.

Despite the presence of Kylon's subordiantes (and Kayt had sincere concerns that the men could do anything but bellow effectively upon command) Kayt moved around behind Kylon, following him into the room. The first thing she noticed was the overpowering stench of alcohol - some of it obviously spilled on the floor, upon armor - as well as that which was imbibed. As she and Kylon positioned themselves, she noted that the Oars seemed very … _unstable?_ Kayt snickered. _That could be taken on so damned many levels with these sorry excuses for …._

She noticed the stunned elf, his back against the wall; the serving girl cornered by a couple of the mercenaries who looked (and Kayt was certain she was) terrified at the day's events. Beside Kayt, Kylon stepped forward then, his armored boots echoing throughout the space, towards the man whom Kayt assumed was the leader of the Oars. There certainly appeared to be recognition upon Kylon's features. As her comrade-in-arms moved, she looked over at the elf again and saw him beginning to creep forward, to reach for weapons with which to defend himself before moving into a recognizable defensive stance. "The shrieking finally get your attention?" he asked.

Kayt remained quiet deciding that since the sergeant was finally here, she would simply remain as backup. But when the mercenary began talking, his voice a slurred tangle of words, she realized that these men would not back down from a fight. _He's going to need my help,_ she accepted internally. "_Kylon._" The venom with which the man spoke, even in his inebriated state, caused Kayt's blood to run cold.

"I'm only going to give you and your good-for-nothing crew one chance; leave now, or else we'll make you regret it," she heard the sergeant reply calmly.

Kayt kept her face neutral as she watched the scene unfold. She noticed the other Oars beginning to take notice as well. Her brow furrowing, she made her choice of action … quietly, unobtrusively moving her position (what little focus the man had was clearly intent upon the sergeant, and none of the others save the elf, perhaps, even noticed her) until she stood behind the over talkative, over bearing oaf. "On'y way yer forcin' us out, sarge, is over my dead arse."

Kayt, now standing behind the lout, peered around his shoulder at Kylon to watch his reaction. "That can be arranged, _friend_," she announced, her voice strong, clear and with a slight purr of authority as her dagger moved up to press lightly but firmly against his back, "if that is what you are wanting."

Her eyes upon Kylon, waiting for his command, she heard the sergeant reply, "As you like," just as he kicked out at the man's chest with his metal-encased foot. As the merc began falling, Kayt made sure he was down, planting the pommel squarely on the back of his head to incapacitate him. Then turning quickly, she watched as Kylon and his men executed a move to open up some space in which to fight. She caught a blur of color to the opposite side of the room, noting with a quick glance that Edwina had pulled her employee out of harm's way. _Good … one less innocent in danger._

Kayt saw Kylon look over at her as he ordered, "Circle around them, cut off their movement! I'll grab their attention!"

Kayt didn't bother to acknowledge him, she simply responded, though she did smirk at his authoritative tone. _I'll have to tease him about that later … after I apologize …._ With quick and agile movements, she did as he asked. As she did so, she swore she heard a new voice saying, "Huh only one mercenary for each of us…pity," but she did not break her concentration to find out. Instead she allowed the spike of adrenaline flow through her, washing away her exhaustion for the moment as she met her target head on.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Lairentes #==-<strong>

Lairentes watched the proceedings in silence, slowly moving closer towards the Oars. His hope was that they would be so focused on the others that he could get closer and take some out before they realized what was going on. As he crept forward, keeping his daggers still, he glanced back at the sergeant and recognized the man as Sergeant Kylon. The elf remembered him from his past travels in the Market District, and the word around town was that the man was hard on crime and hard to beat.

He didn't recognize the two guard and didn't recognize the woman, but he had to admire her ability to sneak up on the leader of the Oars. The Dalish tensed as the leader was dispatched and the others prepared to fight, gripping his daggers tightly as he planned out his attack. His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of another combatant, however, a stocky elf with scars and earrings that looked quite happy to see all the combat here. But at this point, Lairentes was only glad to see another blade on their side. "Tch only one for each of us…pity."

The Dalish grunted, and let a smile cross his face. "You'll have to work hard to get even one from me, friend." He fell silent as the two groups moved about, the guards forming a defensive line while the Oars maneuvered about to attack it. Lairentes felt his heart beating in his chest, and the beats sounded out throughout his head as he tried to pick a target. Finally his eyes settled upon the man that had been beating him earlier, preparing to charge one of the guards with a hefty axe in his right hand.

The elf narrowed his eyes and bolted forward, raising his daggers above his head to stab downwards into the throat of the thug. The man noticed his charge, and let out a loud roar as he turned to face Lairentes, a red fire raging in his dark eyes. The Dalish prepared to strike, but just as he reached stabbing distance, the man rammed out with his foot and kicked him in the stomach. Lairentes stopped right in his tracks, the blow knocking the air out of him. The thug took advantage of this and charged into the elf, ramming his arm against his opponent's neck.

The Dalish was thrown up against the wall, gasping for air as the thug prepared to cut him open with his axe. Lairentes widened his eyes and quickly grabbed his dagger, thrusting the blade towards the man's arm. His dagger pierced the wrist of the thug, and the mercenary cried out in pain, ripping the dagger free of the elf's grip and stepping back from his opponent. He dropped the axe as he bared his teeth in anger, and Lairentes prepared to drive his remaining blade into the heart of the thug.

Right before he did so, however, the thug crashed into him again, grabbing his head with both hands and throwing him down onto the floor. The elf fell down, and his attacker pulled the dagger from his wrist, spilling blood onto his legs. The mercenary grinned and knelt down, stabbing the blade downwards towards Lairentes. His heart pounding in his chest, Lairentes rolled to the side as the blade slammed into the floor. The thug pulled the dagger free and faced the elf again, preparing to charge him once more.

The Dalish tensed himself for one moment and then dived towards the thug, aiming his dagger at the neck of the Oar. The mercenary howled in anger and tried to brace himself for the elf, but Lairentes was quicker. He toppled into the thug and sank his dagger into the throat of the Crimson Oar, his other hand grabbing onto the shoulder of the thug to steady his target.

The man struggled for a few seconds, trying to throw the elf off of him, but being drunk only did so much for a man's pain threshold. Soon, he fell limp and his eyes faded into a blank stare, the life gone from his bones. Lairentes pulled his dagger free and turned towards the action in the center of the room, preparing to defend himself in his weakened state.


	3. Chapter 3

**-==# Sergeant Kylon #==-**

It looked as though another had decided to join the fray on the side of the guards, as Kylon caught the burly-looking elf out of the corner of his eye. He seemed weathered and hardy, one who knew his way around a blade and a bar brawl, so as long as he didn't get any ideas about turning on the guards at the last minute, the sergeant wasn't one to turn his help away. Especially after him commenting, "Tch only one for each of us... pity." Simply shaking his head, a grim smile playing on his lips, Kylon kept his attention towards the two attackers in front of him, trusting his boys (as much as he could anyhow) to keep up their defensive line and for these rogues to slip around and hamstring the ruffians from behind.

He eyed one of the mercenaries hefting a war axe from the table and start to barrel over to engage Reynolds, who was already besieged by a rather large and sodding drunk bruiser with a longsword, and made to intercept him, but saw that the Dalish who was in the room before had gotten his bearings back and caught the thug for him. Feeling that it was best to leave that single brute to the elf for the time being, Kylon focused on holding the line he'd established, parrying with his dual weapons and delivering strikes with the blunt ends to minimize damage.

Seeing a potential flaw in the group of drunks, Kylon shouted over the action to his boys, "Sayveen! Reynolds! Cut them down the middle!" He then took the lead with his longsword, spearheading a maneuver that split the opposing force neatly in half. The guards were surrounded, but as long as they kept their shields up and faced forward, they took the brunt of the opposition while giving the rogues a chance to encircle and destroy them from the rear. Kylon himself took the center of the action, drawing most of the attention to himself and away from the lighter members. With practiced movements born from several confrontations like this, he flourished and pivoted, taking each aggressor on with quick, tight and precise movements, enough to parry the attack and deliver one of his own that would force them to back up and give him room for the next assault. His boys did their fair share of shield work, as well, providing a solid line to protect their sergeant with when things got too hairy on either side.

Delivering a shattering pommel strike to the shoulder of one of the brigands, Kylon was about to turn around and engage another one when the leader appeared, hefting a large warhammer, and struck him a glancing blow to the chest, knocking the wind out of him and dropping him to one knee. Winded and dazed, Kylon thought he was about to have his head splattered against the large maul, when a shield suddenly entered the picture and knocked the thug down to the ground a second time.

Looking over, Kylon saw Sayveen looking rather smug as he started to gloat, "Heh, not so tough _now_, are ye, ya mercenary scu-"

Kylon knocked the fool to the ground just as a crossbow quarrel flew right into the space where his head was barely two seconds before. Leaping off the ground, Kylon spied the archer in the back, away from the action, drew the steel dagger from his boot, and threw it with aim that surprised even him right into the thug's shoulder, dropping him like a stone to the floor and crying out in pain. His eyes then looked down at Sayveen with a cross expression.

"You have time to crow, Sayveen you worthless stripling, then you have time to duck! Get your head in the game, boy, and _keep_it in there!"

Leaving the shaken guard to get up on his own, Kylon took up his position beside Reynolds and continued to hold the line. Spying one of the brutes dead out of the corner of his eye, he ran down the facts. Two out of commission, leaving four of these undesirables left. Bloody fantastic.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Raiziv Carvi #==-<strong>

"You'll have to work hard to get even one from me, friend"

Raiziv kept his eyes on the six armored men in front of him barely acknowledging the other elf's words _those two hanging back are definitely archers_ he thought eyes narrowing slightly _we need to take those out first otherwise they'll pick us off while we're dealing with the other four_

"Oy girl" he called trying to catch the his only female ally's attention before she moved too far away "I'm gonna try to take one of those two in the back out first, think you can take the other one out? "

Without waiting for a reply, he began moving towards the nearest archer when suddenly his path was blocked by a wall. A moving wall, made up of plate armor and muscle wielding a two handed sword, _aw hell _. Raiziv quickly brought his swords up, catching the larger blade in the middle of its downward swing; he grunted faintly as the human's powerful swing reverberated through his entire body. The human smirked down at the elf, pushing against the crossed blades blocking his swords path. Raiziv in turn planted his feet and put all of his strength into shoving his blades upwards forcing them into a deadlock. The human, realizing he wouldn't be able to break through the elf's defense by simply pushing, began hammering away at the crossed blades. Raiziv grit his teeth holding his own against his opponent's powerful blows.

Raiziv glanced at the two rival archer's and swore as one almost killed one of the city guards. _I __**hate**__ leaving this up to someone else, but I guess I'll have to leave it up to the girl_Raiziv thought as he turned all of his attention towards looking for an opening in the human's defense while keeping the man from cleaving his face in two.

Raiziv finally spotted an opening when the human raised his sword high, preparing to use a pommel strike, leaving his torso and lower body exposed. The elf quickly brought his foot up and slammed it into his opponent's knee forcing the human to lose his balance. Not giving his opponent a chance to recover Raiziv went on the offense. The mercenary did his best to block the elf's blows as he was forced backwards, but for every blow he blocked another one blow landed. The relentless attack continued until the human tripped over a chair and went sprawling backwards. Raiziv jammed a blade into his downed opponent's chest through a gap in the man's plate armor and the other through his opponent's throat.

I do hope you weren't expecting to arrest all of them" he called to the leader of the city guards as he pulled his swords free.

Sudden movement out of the corner of his eye combined with the pain of a crossbow bolt being buried into his shoulder reminded him that his now deceased opponent hadn't been alone. He'd had friends, friends who _should_have been otherwise occupied.

"DAMMIT!" Raiziv growled as he ducked down, ignoring the hunk of wood sticking out of his shoulder, to grab the dagger hidden in his boot and threw it at the archer. It didn't it it's intended target, the bastards throat, but it did bury itself deep into the other man's shoulder. "I hate archers"

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

Kayt's movement came to a sudden halt as a shadow seemed to engulf her. Glancing up, she discovered one of the broad-shouldered muscular brutes had stepped into her path. _Maker's horny helm, he's as big as the city wall!_ she thought, wishing desperately that they were in a wide open space so that she could shoot from range. _And a dual wielder._Kayt sighed inwardly. She was adequate with her blade, enough to at least protect her own skin in most cases, but there was no doubt that with the bow she was an expert. This close to him, face to face, she'd not stand a chance …

_Time for some creative thinking,_ she realized as he gave her a lascivious leer, a lecherous chuckle and began spinning his weapons in his hands as he prepared to engage. As he did this, his eyes focused solely on her own, she slowly shifted her blade to her left hand, reaching behind herself with the right to grasp one of the arrows from her quiver. She then began testing him to determine what weaknesses, if any, he might have. She shifted to her left first and then lunged slightly to her right. His responses were only slightly hesitant, not so much that she could ignore him, but just enough that she might be able to use it to her advantage. As she prepared to move again, shifting to the balls of her feet so that she could move quickly, she was distracted by the whooshing sound of a crossbow bolt that flew by rather close and thunked into the wooden wall behind her opponent. _Oh great, they have crossbows!_

Kayt vaguely heard Kylon shouting orders at his men behind her while she focused on the man in front of her. After his words, however, she could sense that the sergeant must be doing something that was a bit more spectacular for she noted that her opponent became increasingly distracted. He was still looking at her, as focused as he could be given his current state of inebriation, but every few seconds or so, she observed his eyes dart away for the briefest of moments before returning to her.

_It's like watching the animals_, she thought as she gauged when he might lash out with his first strike. _Watch the eyes, observe the slightest of changes in movement as muscles bunch and release, know your opponent and he will show you what he intends to do …._Kayt could hear Andaer's instructions echoing through her head from years gone by. Narrowing her gaze, she suddenly saw it. Darting quickly, she side-stepped around him, spinning and moving behind him quickly as he reached out with his daggers.

He grunted angrily, noticing belatedly as he moved that he had missed her. Turning, he growled as he spotted her, and lunged at her again.

Kayt was more than prepared this time. Side-stepping again, her movement quick and sure, she swept her leg out and assisted him in losing his already precarious balance. He landed on the floor with a loud crash. As she dropped to her knees to completely incapacitate the man, she heard another thunk in the wall nearby. Before she could refocus her attention on the man lying before her, she heard a male voice growl out angrily, "DAMMIT! I hate archers!" Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed an elf, the newcomer who had joined them, as he struggled to remove a bolt from his shoulder.

Kayt placed her arrow between her teeth for the moment, shifted her dagger to her right hand and flipped it pommel down, swinging downwards to hit the skull in a manner designed to knock him unconscious. She heard him groan, felt his body become dead weight, and only then did she sheath her dagger and rise to her feet. In the same motion, she reached for her bow, took the arrow from her lips and nocked it. Before her first shot had gone far, she retrieved another missile, releasing it almost immediately after the first. Both shots hit home - one in the eye, one in the neck. Combined with the dagger in his shoulder, the attacker didn't stand a chance.

As Kayt had lined up her first shots, she noted a second archer standing nearby the first. Satisfied that her first target was out of commission, she set her sights on the second, quickly releasing another two shots, with equally deadly results.

She took a step in the direction of the archers, but could not move as she felt a hand surround her ankle. Glancing down, already shifting her bow in her hands, she quickly unhooked the bowstring from the bow tip at both ends, slammed the end of the bow into the back of the now semi-conscious man's skull for good measure (_bloody oaf is too damned big!_), then used the bowstring to truss him up, all the while grumping, "Andraste's flaming _ass_, don't you idiots know when to quit?"

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Lairentes #==-<strong>

The Dalish watched the action in a daze, his head spinning from the recent blows he had suffered. He wobbled a bit in the corner as he tried to stand, keeping his focus centered on the action. The guards were fighting bravely, hacking and slashing at whatever they could with little finesse, but a valiant effort nonetheless. The city elf was quick thinking, and knew how to exploit his opponent. And the woman with the image of the fox on her had already dispatched the two archers, which definitely said something for her speed. _Damn. I'm outmatched. That's a first._

The two archers were dispatched quickly, with two other thugs dead and one currently being beaten into unconciousness, and everything looked well. Lairentes was about to calm down when he noticed the leader, the thick-headed idiot struggle up to stand tall and proud again, having already taken two blows that knocked him off his feet.

The leader of the Crimson Oars roared out and rushed the door, heading for the opening that was created when the city guard Sayveen had rushed over to assist Kylon. The other guard, Reynolds, tried to stop him but the leader swung his warhammer in a wide arc and Reynolds only had time to block the blow with his shield, being pushed back by the force of the attack. The leader was able to charge out into the main room, and Lairentes cursed. "I'll get him!"

The elf stumbled out after the Oar, doing his best to run in his dizzy state. The serving girl from before was hiding behind the bar, shuddering with fear as she saw the Oar leader again. He flashed her a toothy grin before starting his run towards the door, his path unhindered by customers and patrons alike. Lairentes rushed after him, getting ready to lunge for his fleeing legs in case the leader was going to outrun him. In this state, that was probably likely.

And then the unbelievable happened. From behind a table emerged the stout form of Edwina, and before Lairentes could blink she was there at the door, barring access to the Oar leader. "Now, ye may have beaten Kylon, but yer not gonna get past me!" The leader didn't even take notice of her, preparing to swing his warhammer and be done with the angry old missus, but the Dalish wasn't going to let that pass. He quickly stretched his arm back and flipped his dagger in his hand, preparing to throw it at the back of the leader.

Now, Lairentes was no master knife-thrower, but the Oar leader was very large and the Dalish just had to hit something to stun him. The elf quickly hurled the blade at the mercenary, and was rewarded with the Oar crying out in pain and stumbling over in his charge, crashing down to the ground as a shiny knife stuck out of his waist. Edwina gave a satisfied grunt and spat down upon the leader, walking over to the bar with an air of command. "City guard ain't worth a damn... could defend this place by meself. Hmph."

The Crimson Oar tried to reach for his warhammer in his pain, but all he got for his troubles was a hard boot slamming down onto his palm. The Dalish knelt down in front of the leader, and gave him a small smile. "Well, you've had your fun, sire. I think we're done here." He kicked the leader in the face and stood up, hollering to the sergeant and slurring his words a bit. "I got him, Kylon!"


	4. Chapter 4

**-==# Sergeant Kylon #==-**

Lunging into his next stroke, Kylon set the thug he was engaging off balance enough for him to stumble backwards and free up space for another combatant. On and on went the vicious cyclic dance, every sharpened blade and every blunt hammer head merely an inch away from scoring a hit before being systematically parried and shunted off to the side. For the sergeant, he took it all in with precision and practiced efficiency that mirrored the excellent conditioning drilled into him from his turn in the army. No thought crossed his mind except for the knowledge of the placement of his opponents and his allies on the floor of the tavern.

He only wished his boys were as competent on that particular level. Stumbling around, shields getting tangled around their feet, swinging their swords wildly and presenting as much danger to themselves as the Oars. If Kylon told them once, he'd told them a thousand times, _pay attention!_He knew he should have expected this kind of behavior, but in a tense battle situation, one would think that these bastard whelps would have taken their combat training a bit more seriously!

Ah well, at least he had more able bodies on his side, as he looked at the newcomers taking their turns against the remainder of the Oars. The forester girl with the bow and dagger and that odd fox tattoo on her face, and two elven men, one seemingly a Dalish, the other a more hardened variety of the ones who might live in the Alienage, as well as more worldly. No matter their backgrounds, they were skilled, and Kylon was glad to have them on his side.

It seemed as though archers were laying on the far side of the room when Kylon entered and had taken positions and everything. Luckily, their drunkeness hampered their aim, or otherwise the whole operation would have been in serious trouble. One sodder was trussed up by the woman in ranger's garb, a few of the archers in back were taken out by the elves, and some of the frontline fighters had been whittled down to exhaustion by engaging such a coordinated group, Kylon's guards notwithstanding. Three to four were dead, and the rest were practically so wounded that they would have difficulty taking up arms again, most likely.

"Right, let's get this lot rounded up and thrown onto the street," he said in a tired voice, his exhaustion flowing back with the vacancy of adrenaline.

With the aid of the others in the group, the remainder of the Crimson Oars were thrown unceremoniously out into the market district. Kylon walked calmly over to the leader, still slightly dazed from the kick he recieved from the Dalish elf earlier, and kneeled down until they were at eye level. Once he knew that he had their attention, the sergeant spoke, "Now, I've been lenient with you ruffians so far, only a few bruises before running you out, but now I see that actually killing off your men is the only way to get your attention.

"You and the rest of your crew will get back on your ships and leave Denerim tonight. And if I find you causing trouble here or anywhere in this city again, I'll be sure to have your scrawny necks dangling at the end of a _rope_. Understood?"

His voice was calm, but it carried that authoritative edge that brooked no argument, else he would hold to his promise plus tenfold. His face flabby with drink and fear, the mercenary captain nodded his head viciously.

"Now," the sergeant continued, raising back to his feet, "your weapons will be confiscated, as will the equipment of your dead. You want them back, then you'll come to the guard compound and pay the fine. Also, your ship will be held in the harbor until you pay for damages to the inn."

The captain's face turned from fear to outrage. He spluttered out, "B-b-but that's-"

"Rules for disturbing the peace," Kylon cut off, "and if you don't pay, then you and your boys'll be taking a trip to the dungeons for a couple days. I hear the overnight accomadations are _very_welcoming."

Sneering up at the sergeant, the mercenaries grumbled and agreed, throwing their weapons to the mud at his feet and rising unsteadily back up. "Get out of my sight," spoke Kylon in a cold voice, and they needed no other prompting.

He turned and addressed Edwina next, who stood with a smoldering look to the louts behind the heavily armed guards. "Well, Ed, your compensation for damages should be arriving before the night's out, once we squeeze it out of their tight purses, that is."

The stout old woman nodded her head and replied, "Thankee, sarge. Though yer performance was a little below par today, I 'ppreciate you comin' over and runnin' those hoodlums out."

Kylon merely held up his hands and spoke, "You're welcome, but the credit doesn't belong to me alone. You also ought to thank these three. Probably would have been overrun were it not for them." He gestured to the other warriors who had helped in the battle. Edwina turned her gaze on them and spoke, "Ah, well in that case... thank you, all of you. Ye'll be welcome with open arms in my place from now on."

After a nod to the sergeant, the proprieter gathered herself and went back in to see to damages. Kylon looked back to his two guardsmen and ordered. "Right, Sayveen? Head to the harbor on the double, take three men with you and pass on orders to hold the Oar's ship until I say they can leave. Reynolds, gather up another crew and confiscate the weapons and equipment the Oars left behind, send it straight back to the compound as quick as you can." There was some grumbling from the two, but after a stern glance from their superior, they shuffled off to their respective duties. Finally, Kylon turned and addressed the three who had aided him.

"Now, if you three would be so kind as to follow me? I won't take up more of your time than is necessary, I promise you..." He began to circuit back to his regular post near Wade's Imporium, expecting the others to follow him, and it was obvious he wasn't taking no for an answer.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Raiziv Carvi #==-<strong>

Raiziv shot the girl a grateful look as she took out the two archers. They'd been lucky if even one of the archers had been sober they would have been in big trouble.

_Especially those two_Raiziv eyed the two younger city guards as they flailed about.

The older city guardsman, the obvious leader of the three, was a different story. Raiziv watched him fighting his opponent with precision and efficiency never getting flustered when his opponent parried and returned a blow. Now if all the city guards were more like him Raiziv would defiantly have thought twice about stealing; luckily for him, they weren' did however make a mental note to make sure this one didn't catch wind of his illegal activities, being in his good graces could come in handy in the future.

The sound of thumping feet moving away caught Raiziv's attention. The leader of the mercenaries was making a break for it. Raiziv cursed silently as he stood, hefted his swords and swore loudly whilst dropping the blade he held in his left hand. Somehow he'd forgotten about the crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder. He sheathed the sword he was still able to hold and went about the process of extracting the piece of wood from his shoulder.

He firmly wrapped his other hand around the bolt's shaft, and snapped the end off as best he could without causing more damage to himself. He growled faintly glaring at the part of the shaft still in his shoulder and threw the broken off piece onto the ground. He really hated archers, mainly the ones who shot at him, the ones who were on his side he liked. Raiziv bent down; picked up the sword he'd dropped, carefully inspected it to make sure there was no damage to it and sheathed it.

"Right, let's get this lot rounded up and thrown onto the street," he heard the leader of the city guards call out tiredly

"Hang on let me get my dagger" Raiziv jogged over to the downed archer whose shoulder held his dagger. "Asshole" he muttered as he ripped the dagger out of the corpse's shoulder, wiped the blood off on the man's pant leg and sheathed it back in his boot.

Turning back he jogged over to the woman, whom he just now noticed had a really nice tattoo of a fox on her face, "Need a hand? he asked before helping her drag the tied up mercenary outside, all the while ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

When the leader of the mercenaries was dragged out as well, Raiziv couldn't resist viciously kicking the man in the ribs. "That's for making the rest of us mercenaries look bad" he growled as the man clutched his ribs.

Raiziv backed off when the leader of the city guards approached and knelt down until he and the mercenary scum were eye to eye. "Now, I've been lenient with you ruffians so far, only a few bruises before running you out, but now I see that actually killing off your men is the only way to get your attention. You and the rest of your crew will get back on your ships and leave Denerim tonight. And if I find you causing trouble here or anywhere in this city again, I'll be sure to have your scrawny necks dangling at the end of a _rope_. Understood?"

_If they come back after a thrashing like this they really __**are**__ as dumb as they look._

"Now, your weapons will be confiscated, as will the equipment of your dead. You want them back, then you'll come to the guard compound and pay the fine. Also, your ship will be held in the harbor until you pay for damages to the inn."

"B-b-but that's-"

"Rules for disturbing the peace," the city guard cut off, "and if you don't pay, then you and your boys'll be taking a trip to the dungeons for a couple days. I hear the overnight accommodations are _very_welcoming." The mercenaries grumbled but complied, throwing their weapons down into the mud. "Get out of my sight," the guard said in a voice so cold Raiziv was surprised ice crystals didn't form.

The city guard turned around to address the owner of the tavern, Edwina, he was pretty sure he'd heard someone call her that, but Raiziv kept an eye on the retreating mercenaries…just in case. When the mercenaries finally disappeared from sight he turned to face Edwina as well.

"Thankee, sarge. Though yer performance was a little below par today, I 'ppreciate you comin' over and runnin' those hoodlums out."

_That was him __**underperforming**__?_ Raiziv's eyes widened slightly _Oh now I'm definitely avoiding him_

"You're welcome, but the credit doesn't belong to me alone. You also ought to thank these three. Probably would have been overrun were it not for them."

"Ah, well in that case... thank you, all of you. Ye'll be welcome with open arms in my place from now on."

_Huh maybe now I can get a drink without being stared at. Wonder if that means I can get a discount as well?_

He was brought out of his musings about cheaper drinks when the city guard turned towards them after dismissing his subordinates "Now, if you three would be so kind as to follow me? I won't take up more of your time than is necessary, I promise you..."

Raiziv started to protest as he had planned on finding a healer to look at his shoulder but the guard's tone left no room for argument. Raiziv groaned faintly but did no more as he fell in line behind the man.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

"Need a hand?"

Kayt was kneeling beside the incapacitated mercenary, her dagger in hand when the she realized the words were directed at her. Before glancing up, she sliced through the bowstring she'd used to truss him up. _Andaer would laugh … my knots were too good this time!_she thought recalling a time when she was seven and he'd been teaching her how to tie knots. Giving the elf a nod, Kayt rose to her feet, saying, "Thanks. I think this one weighs more than a full grown mabari."

Outside the tavern, Kayt stepped aside, remaining nearby, but not within arms reach. She was effectively unarmed now, able to rely only on her dagger or her unstrung bow until she could retrieve a new bowstring and put it back to working order. Instead, she pulled the bow in front of her and leaned against it in an overly and deceptively casual manner. _She_ knew she was more or less unarmed now … _they_did not.

Kayt observed Kylon in action now. She'd seen him do the same before to others upon occasion, and she knew this ought to be good. As he spoke, she narrowed her gaze over the remaining men. _I wonder if this will be enough to chase them off for good? _she mused.

"Now, your weapons will be confiscated, as will the equipment of your dead. You want them back, then you'll come to the guard compound and pay the fine. Also, your ship will be held in the harbor until you pay for damages to the inn."

"B-b-but that's-"

Kayt swallowed a chuckle. _Now is not the time,_she reminded herself.

"Rules for disturbing the peace, and if you don't pay, then you and your boys'll be taking a trip to the dungeons for a couple days. I hear the overnight accommodations are very welcoming."

She watched the mercenaries as they sneered and grumbled, but reluctantly tossed their weapons aside, her guard a bit more alert as they did so since there was always a chance ….

"Get out of my sight." Kayt bit back a grin and managed to keep from shivering at the coldness of the sergeant's voice as the men stumbled away, their mutterings finally fading away with distance. _He is most definitely one not to be on the wrong side of! _

Kayt followed him with her eyes as he turned then to speak with Edwina. Kayt noted then that the woman did not appear happy, but then Kayt recalled that the older woman hardly ever appeared that way. "Well, Ed, your compensation for damages should be arriving before the night's out, once we squeeze it out of their tight purses, that is."

"Thankee, sarge. Though yer performance was a little below par today, I 'ppreciate you comin' over and runnin' those hoodlums out."

Kayt snickered softly. _Ah, Ed, you ought to be mindful …_. "You're welcome," the sergeant quickly replied, "but the credit doesn't belong to me alone. You also ought to thank these three. Probably would have been overrun were it not for them."

Kayt's brow lifted in surprise at this, though she met Edwina's gaze and held it a long moment until she was certain the woman recognized her. "Ah, well in that case... thank you, all of you. Ye'll be welcome with open arms in my place from now on." Glancing at her elven friends, Kayt hoped that was true. The same had been guaranteed to her friend Oriphiel, but Kayt had not seen the woman since their entertaining evening here several weeks before.

Kayt mused on the whereabouts of her friends for a few moments as Kylon then gave his men their orders. She was startled out of her reverie when he added, "Now, if you three would be so kind as to follow me? I won't take up more of your time than is necessary, I promise you..."

Kayt's eyes narrowed as he began striding off across the marketplace. Glancing briefly at her companions, she chose to follow, her steps catching up to the sergeant's quickly. When she reached his side, she nodded slightly at the job he had done, and added, "You do realize, don't you, that you owe me a bowstring?" She waited for him to look directly at her before she winked at him so he knew she was teasing.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Lairentes #==-<strong>

Lairentes did his part in assisting the others in throwing the Crimson Oars out of the tavern, but at this point his head was swimming and he needed a nice warm bed to collapse into. The adrenaline had been the only thing holding him up straight during the fight, and now that it was gone the Dalish felt the aftershocks of his beatings. He stood off to the side while the sergeant cleaned things up, trying to hold his stomach down.

He took this time to truly observe his compatriots, based on what he had just seen in that dusty old tavern. Kylon was efficient, quick, and seemed damned good at his job. He had been with the city guard for as long as Lairentes had heard of him, and despite what trouble he had to deal with, Kylon seemed dedicated to his post. Was the pay that good? The Dalish wondered if the city guard was prone to hiring out mercenaries to help out with their troubles. If that was true, perhaps there was a future in helping out the guards. A lucrative future.

The woman that had fought with them had seemed very able to defend herself, and that was something the Dalish admired. But the thing that intrigued him about her was her intricate tattoo, a stylized fox that was jumping across her face. It reminded him of his people's vallaslin, or blood writing. It was customary for Dalish elves to imprint an image of their gods upon their faces, but this was a human woman that bore no such mark of worship. It still surfaced in his mind though, and he had to wonder where she got such a tattoo.

And for the burly city elf that had come in late during the fighting, somebody had been drinking.

The only thing that he took the time to respond to was Edwina's thanks. "Ah, well in that case... thank you, all of you. Ye'll be welcome with open arms in my place from now on." Lairentes folded his arms and tried to look angry, but it just came off as sickly.

"If all your customers are like that, I don't want to be welcomed with open arms." Lairentes glared at Edwina, but did nothing else. The woman had only bothered to call the guard when it was her serving girls getting roughed up by the Oars, but if it was his face getting knocked around then she didn't bother. He wasn't going to hold a grudge, but resentment was rising in his system. He shrugged it off and turned to Kylon, trying to shake away his sluggishness.

"Now, if you three would be so kind as to follow me? I won't take up more of your time than is necessary, I promise you..." The others immediately started to follow, but Lairentes hung back for a moment. He definitely didn't need to be following around the leader of the city watch for payment, but it was clear that Kylon wasn't waiting for him. He grudgingly took up the rear of the pack, trying to maintain even footing as they walked into the Market District.


	5. Chapter 5

**-==# Sergeant Kylon #==-**

"You do realize, don't you, that you owe me a bowstring?"

Kylon turned at the voice to see that the woman from earlier, with the green eyes and the intricate fox tattoo on her cheek, smiling and winking at him with a teasing air. Despite the exhaustion he felt, he returned her smile and said with a little teasing himself, "Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

It looked as though the three were complying with his request, even with some grumbling. The burly city elf obviosuly was looking for someone to tend to his shoulder, and the Dalish looked slightly put out about something he guessed had to do with his treatment back in the tavern. Well, whatever Edwina had against elves was none of Kylon's concern. What was his concern was the fact that they used their abilities in the defense of public safety alongside him, and for that they were able and reliable people in his mind.

Finally coming to his regular post in front of Wade's, Kylon halted and turned to address the three warriors who accompanied him.

"That was a very brave thing you three did. My goose probably would have been cooked and stewed if you hadn't been there to help deal with those brigands. Can't even trust my own men to hold my back, and yet I can readily trust complete strangers. Heh, will wonders never cease..."

He stopped his rambling and continued, "In any case, you performed admirably, and I would like to reward you for your efforts, hopefully to compensate you for injuries, broken equipment and then some." Pulling out his pouch, the sergeant deposited three sovereigns each into their hands.

"Also, if you were interested in doing some freelance work with the guards, if you were thinking of staying in Denerim for a spell, I could sign you on, unofficially, of course, to help with other tasks. You wouldn't be on the official payroll, as that will raise some questions and glares from the head marshal, but after what I saw today, I could use fighters of your skill. Besides, the pay is still good."

He then looked back at the woman with the fox tattoo. "Now, for your bowstring..." Seeing that she used a longbow, Kylon turned to one of his guards and gave a sharp whistle. "Bors, over here for a moment!"

The guard in question looked dully at Kylon and asked, "Me, sir?"

Kylon rolled his eyes and said tiredly, "No, the Bors right next to you... Of COURSE you! On the double!"

Hurrying over as fast as he could, Kylon continued, "Let me see your bow for a moment, Bors."

"Er... m'bow, sir?"

"Yes, yes, your bow, man! You never even use it anyway!"

Grumbling slightly, the guardsman handed the bow on his back over to the sergeant, who examined it slightly before undoing the string and handing the bow back to the guard. Kylon presented the string to the woman in front of him, adding, "Now, if I'm not mistaken, that should be good enough to last you for awhile. Not like my boys ever use theirs very often."

"Now, one last thing. As you probably picked up by now, I am Sergeant Kylon of the Denerim Guard. And your names would be...?"

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Raiziv Carvi #==-<strong>

Raiziv, clenching his jaw in pain, dutifully followed the guard to wherever he was leading them hoping it wouldn't be very far. The adrenaline that had prevented him from feeling the pain in his shoulder was quickly receding, and the small amount of alcohol he'd had earlier hadn't been enough to affect him in the first place. As such with each step he took the pain slowly intensified until what was once a small trickle of pain turned into a hurricane of pain. Raiziv hoped that whatever the guard wanted to discuss wouldn't take too long as he knew his body, once it truly realized he'd been shot, would start going into shock _and that's always so much fun_he thought rolling his eyes faintly. Finally after what felt like an eternity to Raiziv, though all they'd done was cross the market square, they came to a stop next to a building labeled Wade's Emporium.

"That was a very brave thing you three did. My goose probably would have been cooked and stewed if you hadn't been there to help deal with those brigands. Can't even trust my own men to hold my back, and yet I can readily trust complete strangers. Heh, will wonders never cease..." the guard said turning towards them.

_all of is subordinates are that bad?_ Raiziv shook his head in disgust _Why on earth did he recruit them?_

"In any case, you performed admirably, and I would like to reward you for your efforts, hopefully to compensate you for injuries, broken equipment and then some." Raiziv whistled faintly as the guard deposited three sovereigns into his hand. "Also, if you were interested in doing some freelance work with the guards, if you were thinking of staying in Denerim for a spell, I could sign you on, unofficially, of course, to help with other tasks. You wouldn't be on the official payroll, as that will raise some questions and glares from the head marshal, but after what I saw today, I could use fighters of your skill. Besides, the pay is still good."

"If we get paid like this every time, count me in" Raiziv said pocketing the coin, doing his best to not smirk at the thought of all the money he'd be making from this in addition to what he'd make with his normal occupations.

Raiziv, turning his attention back to the conversation going on around him, sneered at the younger guard's idiotic remarks. He had no problem working for the older guard but he hoped he wouldn't have to deal with any of those idiots while doing it.

"Now, one last thing. As you probably picked up by now, I am Sergeant Kylon of the Denerim Guard. And your names would be...?"

"Well met Sergeant, I am Raiziv Carvi" he said with a nod

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

Kayt quietly accepted the money the Sergeant placed in her hand. Three sovereigns would go a long way to replacing her bowstring. _If he pays this well, perhaps there's more of an opportunity here than I first thought._

"Also, if you were interested in doing some freelance work with the guards, if you were thinking of staying in Denerim for a spell, I could sign you on, unofficially, of course, to help with other tasks. You wouldn't be on the official payroll, as that will raise some questions and glares from the head marshal, but after what I saw today, I could use fighters of your skill. Besides, the pay is still good."

"If we get paid like this every time, count me in." Kayt noticed the elf, the latecomer to the incident in the tavern, speak up. She could not argue with his comment as it more or less echoed her own thoughts.

As Kayt opened her mouth a moment later to respond in kind when she found the Sergeant suddenly looking at her. "Now, for your bowstring... Bors, over here for a moment!"

Flabbergasted, Kayt could only watch at the exchange between Kylon and his man. Normally, she might have laughed, well at least bit back a grin if nothing else, but his actions had truly caught her off guard at this point.

But when the soldier questioned the Sergeant, and Kylon responded with an irritated, "No, the Bors right next to you... Of COURSE you! On the double!" Kayt found herself choking over the laughter that had finally decided to show up. _I knew the guards were less than useless, but this …. _She sighed. _This is ineptitude at its best!_ She found her thoughts drifting back several weeks for the briefest of moments. _Ah, Leli, all the ribbons in the city wouldn't help these lazy oafs!_

Moments later, Kayt looked up to find Kylon standing before her again, placing a bowstring into her hand. "Now, if I'm not mistaken, that should be good enough to last you for awhile. Not like my boys ever use theirs very often."

Kayt knew the amusement was clear in her green eyes as she held his gaze for a moment. Somehow, she managed to choke out, "It will do nicely, I'm certain," without losing control. It took concentrated effort, but she managed it.

"Now, one last thing," Kylon continued, his attention turning to include the other two as well. "As you probably picked up by now, I am Sergeant Kylon of the Denerim Guard. And your names would be...?"

Kayt replied immediately and with a slight smile. "Kaytaryn Desmarais, but most call me Kayt." Nodding at him in respect, she added, "I would be happy to ... assist."

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Lairentes #==-<strong>

Lairentes kept quiet as he observed the Market District, letting his gaze wander from the guard post as they stood there. Kylon's words were getting across to him, but he only focused on the man when three gold sovereigns collapsed into his hand. Almost as a reflex, his hand tightened around them and slipped them into his pouch. That was when the elf really started to pay attention.

The bystanders in the Market District didn't help. These people were mostly middle class humans, and most of them had never even seen a Dalish elf, or an elf so heavily armed. The fact that he was in the presence of the guards with another burly elf made people stare, and stare they did. He glanced over to his side and saw a small family of humans watching him warily as they crossed the marketplace, suspicion in their eyes and caution in their movements.

Were these the people that Kylon defended on a regular basis? These shemlen that regarded him with scorn? And these were the people of Denerim that recieved the guard's watch? Lairentes tried to imagine working with the guard, only to recieve more prejudice from hateful humans. Was it really worth some coin every now and again?

Then again, coin was coin.

The Dalish elf nodded slowly, and offered a tilt of the head to Kylon. "I'll think about the extra work. If I decide to work with you, then I'll find you. If you need to find me, then search around for Lairentes. Or Knife Eyes. Ask around for both." The man shrugged off his pain, and bowed to the guards and the company gathered around him.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my leave and have a nice rest." He winced as he turned to step away, his side bursting out in pain. Some wounds weren't going to heal that well. Lairentes closed his eyes and made his way away from the guard post, his head held high and his body aching from exhaustion. What an interesting turn of events.


	6. Chapter 6

**-==# Sergeant Kylon #==-**

Noticing with a grin that the woman he had gifted the bowstring to was trying to keep her amusement in check with considerable difficulty, Kylon learned the names of two of the mercenaries, Kaytaryn (who would rather be known as Kayt) and Raiziv. Nodding to them politely, the sergeant noticed the other, the Dalish forester, looking about him with something of consternation in his eyes, at the people passing around. No doubt he probably felt isolated with so many people looking at him strangely, having an armed elf outside the Alienage, in the Market District.

Kylon had seen much of that in the Siege, when the elves of the Brecilian Forest clans stood apart from the armies of Redcliffe and Denerim, like their own separate unit. He could hardly blame them, he supposed, what with animosity still plaguing many people's minds of elven relations with humans. Damn shame, if you asked him. There were good fighters with good heads on their shoulders, if this one was an example of his kind, and he could imagine how much good he'd accomplish with a squad of perfectly trained Dalish elves to clean up the scum of the Market.

"I'll think about the extra work. If I decide to work with you, then I'll find you. If you need to find me, then search around for Lairentes. Or Knife Eyes. Ask around for both." The man spoke quietly, his words seemingly carrying a tinge of bitterness from whatever he was feeling when he observed the other humans of the district. But it could have just been Kylon's imagination. He replied back, "Lairentes... I'll remember, thank you."

The elven mercenary responded finally with, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my leave and have a nice rest." Returning the nod he gave the sergeant, Kylon watched as Lairentes turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Giving another look back to the others, he continued, "Well, again, thank you for your help, and I hope that I'll have some more work for you soon. Unfortunately, I have some more headaches to deal with of the less life-threatening kind. Paperwork up to the roof explaining the acts of self defense and such... best return to the compound and get on that. Until we meet again."

Nodding to both in turn, the sergeant turned around and smartly started marching towards the center of Denerim to the guard compound. Maker's mercy, he felt like he needed a rest, too...

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Raiziv Carvi #==-<strong>

"I'll think about the extra work. If I decide to work with you, then I'll find you. If you need to find me, then search around for Lairentes. Or Knife Eyes. Ask around for both."

Raiziv hadn't paid much attention to his surroundings, the pain in his shoulder clouding his mind. Then the other elf had spoken, at first the bitterness and anger in his voice hadn't triggered anything in him; but the other elf's shifting weight and constantly moving eyes were all it took for the fog in his mind to dissipate, making him aware of the eyes on him. Sure enough when he looked around the market district all of the humans aside from the two he was standing near were staring at him and Lairentes with a mix of suspicion and scorn. Raiziv's eyes narrowed, glaring at the humans staring at him. He was so focused on the suspicious humans he almost didn't notice when Lairentes and Sergeant Kylon left.

"What are you all looking at?" he snarled bearing his teeth "Never seen a human talking civilly with an ELF?" he turned to face them eyes flashing"OR MAYBE YOU CAN'T BELIEVE THAT A MEMBER OF THE CITY GUARD WOULD DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN ARREST AN ELF"

He wanted to hit something, no he wanted to kill something. He wanted to drown Denerim in a sea of human blood. A sudden familiar weight appeared on his uninjured shoulder, he glanced at Snit who was worriedly staring at him. The sight of the ferret brought forth an image of another ferret and the elf it belonged to: Jess. Bringing forth the image of Shianni and the other elves in the still being repaired alienage. Suddenly two new emotions appeared, breaking through his anger: guilt and shame. He didn't want other elves like Jess or Shianni or even Lairentes, to suffer for his actions. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he struggled to get his anger under control, when he was sure he could look at a human without hitting them he re opened his eyes and turned to Kayt

"I don't suppose you might know where I could my shoulder looked at?" he asked with a tight smile.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

Kayt's attention had been upon the elf - the living punching bag from the tavern - as he left the guardhouse under his own power. She suspected he might do well to visit a healer, but he had set up invisible walls between himself and the rest, which was all too understandable to Kayt, and she knew that he would allow no one to breech them. A moment later, she heard Sergeant Kylon speaking again, saying, "Unfortunately, I have some more headaches to deal with of the less life-threatening kind. Paperwork up to the roof explaining the acts of self defense and such... best return to the compound and get on that. Until we meet again."

Not wishing to draw undue attention to herself, Kayt simply nodded, turning to face the other elf, the late-comer to the events. This one was in such pain, Kayt could tell whatever walls he might have normally hidden behind would not be in evidence. Reaching out to his undamaged arm, she touched him gently, wishing to offer her assistance. Before she could say a word, however, he was growling out at gawkers near them, "What are you all looking at? Never seen a human talking civilly with an ELF?"

_Uh oh, _Kayt realized, _this may be more difficult than I'd thought. _"OR MAYBE YOU CAN'T BELIEVE THAT A MEMBER OF THE CITY GUARD WOULD DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN ARREST AN ELF"

And then Kayt saw the animal scamper to the man's shoulder …_ a ferret? _Kayt glanced at the creature while keeping her hand nearby. Hoping that the creature would sense her presence was not threatening.

Kayt could see that the elf was angry, but was unsure how much was due to pain or due to the simple fact that he was an elf and the onlookers were human. She saw his eyes close, his hand move to his nose, pinching it in an effort to focus. "We should get that shoulder looked at," Kayt suggested softly, leaning down just a bit so that she wouldn't have to speak overly loud. She began guiding him away from the guardhouse, leading him in the direction of the chantry. Kayt knew the sisters there wouldn't mind treating injured elves as well as humans.

"I don't suppose you might know where I could my shoulder looked at?" she heard the elf manage through his pain.

Smiling, Kayt continued to guide him. "I know the perfect place," she assured him, "and it's not that far away."

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Raiziv Carvi #==-<strong>

Raiziv fought to get his temper completely under control, normally he would have merely glared and walked away but being injured always made his temper shorter and his tongue looser. He was sure the humans who had been staring at him were shocked when he allowed Kayt to start leading him somewhere to get healed; but _she_hadn't sneered or scornfully stared at him. So while he kept his bearings about him, just incase, he was fairly certain she wasn't taking him to a discrete location to kill him.

"so Kayt" he said after a moment of silence, absent mindedly scratching Snit's head "that tattoo you have, where'd you get it? It looks Dalish. He truly was curious about the tattoo but asking questions served another purpose, it distracted him from everything else. Like the pain in his shoulder and that since his outburst even _more_ humans were staring at him.

* * *

><p><strong>-==# Kaytaryn Desmarais #==-<strong>

Kayt understood by this point that the elf must be hurting something fierce, and she was certain that was where the fuel for his anger was coming from. She'd seen this before many times in animals, humans, elves … whoever and whatever. She also knew that the downside would be his inevitable collapse as the adrenaline rush wore off. As she led him along, she heard Raiziv say while scratching at his ferret's head, "so Kayt that tattoo you have, where'd you get it? It looks Dalish."

Kayt smiled, but ducked her head so he would not see. She certainly didn't want to fuel his anger any further than it already was. "I think perhaps, my friend, we might save that until after you've sought treatment? The story of my little amusement can wait until you've been healed."

She led him down the alleyway that led back behind Wade and Herren's armor shop, past a series of apartment buildings and towards the chantry. "Just a bit farther, Raiziv, and we'll find you some sort of relief," she glanced over then at the ferret and grinned at the animal, "and perhaps a treat for your little friend to keep him happy as well?"

Another moment later they were in front of the door leading into the chantry.


End file.
